


Defixio

by nahnahnahnah



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: M/M, Mystery, Post-Canon, Roman Britain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:05:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahnahnahnah/pseuds/nahnahnahnah
Summary: A trip to the healing waters of Aquae Sulis leads to revelations, confessions, and far more excitement than Marcus or Esca anticipated.





	Defixio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hapakitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, hapakitsune! I tried to include a few of the things you asked for in this story, and I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> I have added a couple of book-specific details here and there when I felt it needed some extra background, but this is firmly in the movie canon. Also everything is as historically accurate as I could manage.

Marcus had told him it was his choice what they did next, so he had no cause to be making that face. Esca darted a glance at old Aquila, who caught his eye and chuckled. The sound drew Marcus’s attention.

“What is it?” he asked, visibly repressing annoyance. He was terser than normal, but not as biting as Esca knew he could be.

“Oh, noting at all, my boy,” the old man said. “I don’t know that I’ve mentioned how I appreciate the two of you escorting me to Aquae Sulis. The healing waters will be good for my old bones.”

Marcus grimaced and looked over at Esca, falling just short of glaring. “Indeed. The waters are said to be excellent for the infirm.”

Esca looked back coolly. Marcus could protest all he liked; the journey back over the wall had taken its toll on him, and the cooling weather of late meant he’d been favoring his bad leg overmuch since their return. If it took this thin excuse to get him to the healing shrines, so be it.

Aquila, meanwhile, was laughing. “Such self-pity doesn’t suit you, Marcus. If nothing else, it will be good for you to get a change of scenery and reacclimate to life on this side of the wall again.”

Marcus’s brows softened as he looked from Aquila to Esca. “Yes, uncle. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry, Esca, I don’t mean to make this miserable for the both of you. Uncle is right; it will be good for all of us.”

Esca gave a half-smile to Marcus. “It’s all right,” he said, conscious as ever of Aquila’s presence. Marcus could use a bit of teasing at the moment, to show Esca was not treating him with undue gentleness, but he was never sure how far a freedman was allowed before it became too disrespectful to be borne. Marcus would understand what he meant by it and wouldn’t be offended, but Aquila might not. Best to keep his mouth shut.

There was a warmth now in Marcus’s eyes as he smiled genuinely at Esca. There, the matter was closed between them and finally the hardheaded Roman saw sense.

~*~

Aquae Sulis was not what Esca had expected, though he probably should have realized what it would be like. He had thought—they had kept Sul’s _name_ , he hadn’t realized how _Roman_ it all would be. But as soon as the immensity of the stone walls surrounding the town had come into sight, his stomach started sinking.

They approached the gates of the city, and Aquila strode forward to ask the guard directions to the house his neighbor had granted them use of. Marcus drew even with Esca and joined him in gazing up at the walls.

“There’s time to turn back, you know,” Marcus said in a low voice, and smiled just a little when Esca turned to him, glaring.

“I told you I wanted to come pay my respects at the shrine,” Esca replied.

“I know how you hate being inside city walls,” Marcus said, tactfully not mentioning the obvious lie. “Only say the word; we will leave whenever you wish. Uncle can stay and petition the goddess for his good health on his own if need be.”

“I have no complaint about city walls,” Esca said. “I have grown used to them.”

Marcus looked at him but said nothing. They stood in silence for a moment, their arms just barely brushing, before Aquila hailed them and they turned to follow the old man.

~*~

“Kaeso was ever one for spectacle,” Aquila groused as they came up to what appeared to be their lodgings in the city. Esca looked at the house, and wondered what spectacle the house was meant to convey. It was larger than many they had seen thus far, and seemed sound and clean, but he had generally found that one Roman building looked very much like another, and this one was not so much more of an imposition to Esca’s eyes than Aquila’s own house.

Marcus, meanwhile, was objecting, “It was very gracious of your neighbor to allow us use of his house.” His voice was tight and stilted. Esca glanced over at him, trying to be discreet. It had been a long journey; his leg was probably paining him. It would be best to get inside so he could sit.

“Of course, of course,” Aquila agreed, giving Esca a significant look as he pulled open the door and led them through to the atrium. Esca stayed by Marcus’s elbow as he followed his uncle down the short, dark hallway to the great room, ready to offer support if he should falter.

He didn’t, but then he also didn’t react to Esca’s proximity, which meant either he was too distracted by his pain to notice or he was acknowledging the possibility of needing Esca’s help. Either way it would be best to get him seated soon.

They were met by a house slave who directed them to the rooms that had been prepared for them. Esca frowned when the slave started leading him further away from the room Marcus had been settled in.

“Wait,” he protested, “I must be nearer to the centurion.”

The slave stopped. “Apologies, master,” he said. “We had expected the centurion would desire privacy. The rooms near his are not prepared.”

Esca frowned. He was unsure whether he should take it as an insult that they had though Marcus would want to be apart from him, but decided to let it pass regardless.

“He is my patron. I have a duty to him as his freedman and must be near to him should he require me,” Esca said, deciding to explain their relationship in the most Roman way he could. This man was no Briton; he would not understand.

“As you say, master,” the slave said. “We will prepare the room next to his. Our apologies for the misunderstanding.”

~*~

The next morning their neighbor called. He was a Roman, as Roman as Marcus and Aquila. His family, he told them, had been from Etruria, and had once been farmers. He was himself a banker, and his father had been a soldier who brought his Roman wife and children to live in Britain when he was given land at his retirement. His name was Gaius Junius Bassus.

Esca disliked him almost immediately.

“How lucky it is, to come upon other Romans!” he was saying. “It’s quite civilized here, of course, but I’ve found that _true_ Romans are a bit scarce on the ground.”

Esca clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything. Aquila kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye; Marcus looked concerned.

“I have met some very boorish Romans,” Marcus protested, “and a great many noble Britons I infinitely prefer.”

“Oh, no doubt, no doubt,” Junius said, looking over at Esca awkwardly. “I only mean to say, it’s easier when one has so much in common, you see.”

“I imagine you would find more Romans in Rome, if that is what you’re after,” Aquila said, with that diffident drawl he used when he thought someone was being particularly stupid. “Have you not thought of relocating?”

“A bit beyond our means, I think,” Junius said with a forced laugh. “I have a family to support, you know. Two daughters to see to. One I ought to be finding a husband for, in fact.”

“Oh, is that so?” Aquila asked disinterestedly.

“Yes, such a worry to be a father,” Junius replied. “You’re lucky to only have the one nephew, and a fine young man he is. No one you must support or divide up your estate among. No need to find a properly… _suitable_ young man you would be proud to call a son-in-law.”

Ah. No doubt _suitable_ meant _Roman_.

“Quite,” Aquila said, sharper than he had been. “Though I will admit I have little enough estate to leave any heir.”

“Well, I’m certain a strong young soldier like your nephew is more than capable of supporting himself and any family he might have,” Junius replied, turning to Marcus.

Marcus looked somewhat alarmed. “I was wounded and invalided out well before my twenty years,” he said. “I have no land for such an undertaking, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” Junius said, with a bit of a gleam in his eye. “Such a pity, to let good Roman blood go to waste.”

“There are Romans enough, I think,” Aquila said mildly. “And should my nephew decide he wants a family, there is time enough for that as well. But I am afraid we must take leave of you, or there will be no time left today to visit the baths, which of course was our reason for coming.”

“Of course, of course. Enjoy them! And you must come to see me soon; new company is always a blessing.”

When they had finally gotten Junius out of the house they retreated to their rooms to prepare for their trip to the great bath complex. But Marcus pulled Esca aside as they came to his room.

“I am sorry for that, my friend,” he said, looking into Esca’s eyes in that intensely sincere way he did sometimes.

“I do not blame you for how your people are,” Esca replied. “And so long as I do not have to speak to the man, I will not dwell on him overlong. I have heard much worse.”

“Still, I am sorry you had to hear that much,” Marcus said. “You shouldn’t be so insulted in your own house.”

Esca blinked, but only said, “It is your neighbor’s house.”

“Own household then,” Marcus said, exasperated but smiling. “You should be safe in your home.”

Esca ducked his head to hide his smile. “Well, make sure that man does not become your father-in-law, then, so that I will not be forced to see him again.”

Marcus groaned. “I think we managed to stop _that_ problem,” he said.

Esca smirked. “We may hope. But he seemed a tenacious one.”

~*~

The great bath complex was so very, very Roman. Esca could usually admit that baths were one Roman custom he could appreciate, but here, at the springs held sacred by the Britons so long before the Romans came…but it was for Marcus. Marcus, who had been snappy and impatient and _miserable_ all winter, very nearly confined to bed by the old wound in his leg, which had been exacerbated by the cold and by the hard journey and hard fighting they had endured the previous summer.

For Marcus, Esca could swallow his resentment at the Romans for at least the few weeks they would be here. And he doubted either Marcus or Aquila had the stomach to stay for any longer than that in such crowds as this.

They had made their way to the great pool, and if Esca had thought the other rooms they had passed through had been crowded, he had to redefine the word in this room. People filled the pool, and their voices combined and echoed and managed to fill the space under the high vaulted ceiling as a physical force. Esca could already feel the pressure above his eyes that heralded an aching head as the noise slammed into his ears.

Someone nearby hailed Aquila, who left them to converse with his acquaintance while Marcus pulled Esca to the side.

“It is somewhat…much,” Marcus said, almost apologetically. “Stay with me a moment, Esca. Please.”

Esca looked at Marcus and let the odd fondness he had so quickly grown accustomed to wash over him. “Who else requests my attention that I would leave you?” he said, and gave Marcus half a smile when he looked over with humor in his eyes.

They stood in companionable silence for a moment in the midst of the cacophony before Marcus started forward. “We have come all this way,” he said. “We might as well take advantage.”

Esca followed at his elbow, ready to assist if Marcus should need it on the floor, slick with water. But despite the limp Marcus didn’t seem to need it.

The water was warm and Esca could smell the tang of the minerals in it. He hadn’t had the chance to swim for a long time, and never in water so comfortable. It would have been quite pleasant, really, had they been alone, but his enjoyment was tempered by the need to watch out for other people and make sure they didn’t run into him. And so he was distracted and taken by surprise when a man he didn’t know approached Marcus as he stood near the end of the pool.

“Forgive my intrusion, but do you know that man you came in with?” he was asking when Esca came over.

“Yes, he is my uncle.”

“Oh, then can you tell me, are you relations of the centurion Marcus Flavius Aquila who served at Isca Domnuniorum?”

Esca felt himself grow tense, and he noted the stiffness of Marcus’s shoulders. “I am that very man,” he said, his voice showing none of the tension he clearly felt.

The man smiled. “I am Lucius Excingius. My brother Aulus served under you at that fort,” he said.

Marcus looked surprised, and then a stricken, guilty look flitted over his face for a moment before he turned a solemn face to the man. “I am heartily sorry for your loss,” he said. “Aulus Excingius was killed under my command,” he added quietly to Esca.

“I only wished to make myself known to you,” Excingius said quickly, looking back and forth between them. “Aulus wrote to me and said you were a decent sort. And I had an accounting of what…well. Hearing the name Flavius Aquila, I thought it must be fate dictating we meet.”

“Of course,” Marcus said. He smiled, but to Esca it looked strained. “Forgive my rudeness. This is my freedman, Esca. It is an honor for both of us to meet you.”

“The honor, and the pleasure, is mine,” he said, nodding to Esca. “Are you staying long in Aquae Sulis?”

“As long as my uncle wishes,” Marcus replied. “We are staying in his household. But he is used to a much quieter life, so I do not know how long he will tolerate such a change.”

Excingius laughed. “It would be my honor to buy you a drink while you’re still here,” he said. “I could give you the benefit of a native guide; I have lived here with my wife for six months.”

Marcus grinned at him. “And it would be my honor to accept. Your brother was a good man, and a good soldier; I am glad the fates found it fitting for us to meet.”

Esca drew back and carefully didn’t scowl. He did not think the invitation had included him. But maybe it would be good for Marcus to go out. Even if he was left behind.

~*~

Esca frowned as he considered the crowds in front of him. He had hoped getting out of the house would improve his mood but he realized it would have been better to get out of the city. There was nothing to be done for it of course. He didn't know the area and would be needed back too soon, but it would've been nice to clear his head.

His brown study was interrupted by the sound of a young woman's voice.

She was speaking Brittonic.

He had not thought to hear his language here, in this so-Roman city.

She was yelling at a merchant who was scowling back at her and not responding. Esca was still staring at her when she turned to leave, and she caught his eye. She started over to him with a stormy look and he held his hands up in peace when she approached.

"Good day," he greeted quickly in Brittonic when she was close enough. It worked well enough to soften her temper with curiosity, and she wasn't scowling as she took her last few steps.

"Good day," she answered, also in Brittonic.

“I am Esca mac Cunoval of the tribe of the Brigantes.”

“Senovara.” She did not give the name of her father or her tribe.

“I am surprised to hear this tongue spoken here.”

“Most would deny it,” she said with a poisonous look back to the merchant, “but if they’ve any ancestry they know at least a few words of it. They’ll help the Romans stamp it out of them right enough, though.”

“It is good to have a reminder,” Esca said, trying to not set off the temper he could see still boiling below the surface. “I have precious few reminders of home. It’s good to remember where I came from.”

She looked him over, a touch of scorn still on her face. “There are settlements aplenty with Britons still. I do not know if there are Brigantes near here, but certain you do not have to live in a Roman city.”

“I have my reasons,” Esca said shortly. This girl might understand the life-debt that tied him to Marcus, but he doubted she’d forgive him his Roman blood regardless.

She looked at him evenly for a moment but nodded. “Don’t we all.”

That would seem to be the end of the conversation—they’d both made it clear they weren’t willing to discuss their reasons for being here, and neither had been too open about their pasts—but Esca was loathe to give up the connection to another Briton that wasn’t willing to become Romanized so far south of the wall.

“What is your business in town, then?” he asked.

“I was selling my baskets this morning, and trying to get supplies without getting cheated,” she said. “I’m a basket-weaver, between helping my brother work his farm. But he hates coming into the city even more than I, so it’s left to me to resupply us. And I only have so long to finish, so if you’ll—”

“May I walk with you?” Esca interrupted, startling her. “I only—I have little opportunity to practice Brittonic.”

She nodded after a long moment. “All right.”

He spent the afternoon with her, and it was a relief in a way to have someone he could speak to in a way he knew he would never manage with Marcus, but he also found himself missing his Roman and looking forward to seeing him after he parted from Senovara. Her hatred was so bitter, and while he understood it and could see his own feelings reflected in it, he realized then how much his attitude had been softened by his time with Marcus.

~*~

Two weeks passed in this fashion. Esca would see Senovara on the mornings Marcus sent him away, too ashamed of letting Esca see his pain. Esca did eventually tell her about Marcus, and about what kept him tied to Marcus. She was as contemptuous of him as Esca’d thought she’d be, but after he spoke sharply in Marcus’s defense she ceased her vitriol at least when he could hear it.

They went to the baths and the shrine nearly every afternoon, and Marcus would meet—or at least have a passing conversation with—Excingius several times a week.

Junius, their neighbor, came across them several times, but thankfully Aquila took the brunt of those conversations. He never stopped looking at Marcus with that conniving glint, and Esca teased him about the new bride he should be looking forward to.

Esca was himself looking forward to leaving, but he would concede that their time had not been as unbearable here as he had feared. It helped that Marcus’s leg was improving; as time passed, he sent Esca away less and less. It would probably be a few more weeks here, but it looked like their journey had been well spent.

It all came to a halt one day when they were going into the temple attached to the bath complex to petition the goddess for Marcus’s leg. As he was waiting for Marcus to finish his prayer, a small dark shape near the sacred spring caught Esca’s eye. He drew closer, and recognized the tight roll of a curse tablet. The torchlight gleamed on the dull metal, and he could just make out the name scratched on the surface at the end of the roll.

 _Marcus Flavius Aquila_.

~*~

Esca was still deeply unsettled about what he had seen that night at dinner. He wasn’t sure if it would be bad luck to talk about it, or if it would be distressing for Marcus to hear about it.

But he would not, could not lie to Marcus directly, and so when he asked outright at the end of their meal, Esca answered.

“A curse tablet?” Marcus said from his place on his couch. “Really? What have I done to anyone here to deserve such a thing?”

“Someone thinks you are a thief,” Aquila said. “Why else draw the goddess down upon you? It will have been some misunderstanding. And as you are _not_ a thief, I doubt very much you will see any harm come of it.”

“I could not read anything but the name,” Esca said. “The lead was rolled too tightly, and your name was written just at the end. I do not know who made it or why. But surely it is somewhat worrisome, to know there is someone that wishes Marcus harm?”

“As I said, a misunderstanding,” Aquila answered. “Marcus has done nothing wrong, so who could wish evil upon him?”

“I’m sure Uncle is right,” Marcus said, looking at Esca. “And if someone has turned to the gods for intervention, surely they don’t wish to confront me directly. They will have named me as the doer of some wrong; since I have surely done them no wrong, the goddess will leave me be. I doubt very much we’ll see anything more out of this.”

~*~

Esca was not mollified by the conversation at dinner. It wasn't so much that he was worried about the curse itself. He privately wondered whether how effective the Romanized goddess would even be. No, it was that someone they'd met here, someone they'd spent time with, had hated Marcus enough to do it. Esca hated the thought. He didn't trust that whoever it was would really stop at simply petitioning the goddess.

"You're truly bothered by this," Marcus said as they walked to their rooms.

“Yes,” Esca replied shortly.

Marcus frowned. “Really, Esca, I’m certain nothing will come of it,” he said.

“I hate the thought of an unknown enemy,” Esca said. “We don’t know who it is that hates you enough to curse you, and so we have no idea of what to look out for if they should decide to attack you themselves.”

“We haven’t met very many people here,” Marcus said. “Surely I have not acted in a way to bring the wrath of someone I don’t even know. And neither of us know more than a handful of people in the city.”

“That is true,” Esca said. “Junius, perhaps, is tired of you putting him off when he tries to marry you to his daughter.”

Marcus laughed. “Junius is more likely to try a love-spell, and he would have to conceal _that_ in this house, not leave it for the goddess.”

“Maybe so,” Esca said, then hesitated before he tried the next thought. “Maybe Excingius?” He hurried on when Marcus looked ready to protest. “You said yourself there are so few here that we know. Perhaps he does bear a grudge against you after all for his brother.”

“Perhaps,” Marcus said, though his mouth twisted unhappily. “I find it odd, though, that he would be so friendly with me and seek out my company if he hated me so much.”

Esca grunted, but the man still seemed the better candidate to him.

“Maybe it’s that British girl you meet with,” Marcus said teasingly.

“Senovara?” Esca said with surprise. “What reason could she possibly have?”

Marcus smirked. “Surely you have explained by now that you plan to stay with me,” he said.

“Yes, but I don’t see what difference that makes.”

“She might want to get me out of the way,” Marcus said. “Leave you unencumbered from any other obligations.”

Esca frowned. “For what purpose?”

Marcus raised his eyebrows and gave Esca a knowing look. “For marriage, I assume,” he said. “Young women do not meet regularly with men they are not interested in marrying.”

“They might not in Rome, but that has nothing to do with us,” Esca snapped, but he could feel himself blushing. He hoped the lamplight wasn’t strong enough to reveal it to Marcus.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Marcus said far more gently. “And you know that I would never wish to stand in the way of your happiness if you ever _did_ want to take a bride, Esca.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Esca said, still a bit affected by the conversation. He almost said it straight out as soon as he realized it, but managed to keep it in. How could he ever want to marry any girl, when he was in love with Marcus?

They bade each other good night and went to their own rooms, where Esca lay awake for a long while, considering the danger Marcus might be in and the revelation he’d had about his own feelings.

~*~

It was remarkably easy for Esca to fold his new revelations about his own feelings into his world view. It changed nothing, really. His life and his loyalty had been Marcus’s since the amphitheater, and he’d even begun to look forward to it as more of a life spent together than a life sentence after their journey north of the wall.

His feelings also didn’t have any effect on his duty. Esca resolved he would be keeping a close eye on the way people interacted with Marcus in hopes of figuring out who the person was wishing harm on him.

The next morning, he had an easy time of that, as Marcus’s leg was paining him. Esca thought back with chagrin to the way Marcus had insisted the previous day on walking back from the baths unassisted, and had lain upon it at dinner. It was never going to heal fully—or as fully as it ever would—if Marcus didn’t rest it properly. He resolved to be more vigilant about reminding Marcus of that.

Marcus had told him he might have the morning to himself, and in the past few weeks that had meant going out and finding Senovara, but as he recalled what Marcus had implied the previous night about her and her relationship with him, Esca decided against it. He stayed in the house and was bored enough to puzzle over a book of poetry Marcus had about beekeeping, of all things.

That afternoon, Marcus was feeling well enough to go out to the baths. Aquila wanted to call for a sedan-chair, but Marcus wouldn’t hear of it, so Esca privately resigned himself to acting as crutch.

They were just setting off when they were interrupted by a shout.

“Aquila!” cried a voice Esca didn’t recognize. Aquila turned around.

“Yes?” he asked, looking quizzical. The young man that had hailed him looked sheepish, but still angry.

“No—your pardon—I meant Marcus Flavius Aquila.”

“Yes, what is it?” Marcus asked, his pain making him brusque.

“I am here,” the man—boy, really—said dramatically, “about the honor of my beloved, Junia.”

His words met with a blank silence from all three of them. He seemed to wilt slightly.

“Oh,” Aquila said suddenly. “The neighbor’s daughter.”

Marcus and Esca glanced at each other.

“I have not impugned that lady’s honor, as far as I know,” said Marcus.

“But you intend to marry her,” the boy said. He seemed to be floundering a bit now.

“I have no such intention,” Marcus replied. His face was growing tighter. Esca stepped closer to offer his shoulder for support, and was slightly surprised when Marcus took him up on it without complaint.

“But Junia said—”

“What’s your name, boy?” Aquila interrupted.

“Publius Sergius Cacumattus,” he replied. He seemed cowed now.

“The centurion isn’t marrying the girl,” Esca said, growing worried with how heavily Marcus was leaning on him and wanting to be done with the whole situation. “And if I see you around again I’ll drive you off myself.”

Aquila turned his head to hide his smile at that—Esca caught a glimpse of his face—but Marcus intervened.

“Peace, Esca. I’m sure he meant no harm.” Marcus’s voice was strained.

“Well he ought to be on his way now that he’s said his bit,” Esca grumbled, and the boy seemed to take that as his cue to turn tail and run off.

Aquila braced Marcus’s other side as they walked to the baths.

“An excellent job in scaring away that young man, Esca,” said Aquila.

Esca started slightly. “I barely said anything,” he protested.

“Ah, but that glare would have made me turn tail,” said Aquila, and Marcus laughed shakily. “Anyway, I suspect that’ll be the end of your curse-tablet nonsense as well. If Marcus wasn’t being cursed for a thief, then it was certainly for being a rival in love.”

Marcus caught Esca’s eye and smirked a little, but Esca looked determinedly ahead. He would not speak to contradict Aquila, but he doubted very much that was an end to anything. Sergius had seemed too impetuous to want to put the matter in the hands of the goddess and wait it out.

~*~

Excingius was not at the baths that afternoon, and Esca tried not to wonder about it too much. They did not meet with him every day; it signified nothing that he was not there that day. But his suspicion was roused, and so he was very watchful when they ran across him on their way home.

“Excingius!” Marcus cried, catching sight of the man. Esca followed in his wake; the waters had worked well that day, and Marcus was walking unassisted again.

“Aquila!” Excingius replied with surprise. Did he sound dismayed, or was Esca’s mind playing tricks? “May I present my wife, Sacurilla.”

“It is my honor,” said Marcus to the lady, who nodded stiffly. “This is my freedman, Esca,” he added, nudging Esca in the side slightly.

“Good evening,” Esca said, feeling as uncomfortable as she looked.

“You have been to the baths, I take it,” Excingius said, shifting Marcus’s attention back.

“Yes, I did not see you there today.”

“No, I had business elsewhere,” he replied, glancing quickly at his wife. “I am glad to see you do well. I hope the waters are helping.”

“Yes, they are,” Marcus said. “It was a good decision to come, I think.” He caught Esca’s eye with half a smile. Esca smirked back, accepting the win.

“I fear we must go now,” Excingius said, eyeing his wife who had retreated half behind him. “We should meet later, Aquila, when we both have the time for it.”

“I look forward to it,” said Marcus as they turned to leave. Once they were well out of earshot, he muttered to Esca, “You see? Far too friendly to think of cursing me.”

Esca hummed noncommittally. “He was eager to go.”

“His wife seemed shy,” Marcus said. “I am sure it was only for her comfort that he left.”

Esca said nothing, but only fell into step with Marcus as they made their way home.

~*~

Another few days passed. Marcus’s leg was showing improvement, finally, and he felt able to go out in the mornings. As this kept them away from any visits Junius might make, Esca could understand Marcus’s eagerness to be out of the house.

But it also meant it had been days since he had seen Senovara. Marcus had never met her, and he was not eager to bring that about.

But it seemed today he would have no choice in the matter.

He and Marcus were walking in the market together aimlessly, because it was close to the house if Marcus’s leg took a turn for the worse but still allowed them to get some air and distance, when Esca heard his name being called.

He turned and saw her, wisps of her auburn hair escaping her braid as she chased after him.

“Senovara, good morning,” he said, and Marcus pulled up short.

“Good morning,” she said, slowing as she drew closer to them. She hesitated, glancing between the two of them. Marcus was looking at him expectantly.

“Senovara, this is my patron, Marcus Flavius Aquila,” Esca said reluctantly. “Marcus, this is Senovara.”

Senovara blinked as Marcus smiled and nodded to her. “Esca, I…may I speak to you? Alone?”

Esca was about to refuse, not wanting to leave Marcus alone and still dwelling on what Marcus had said about her possible intentions. But Marcus interrupted.

“Do not refuse on my account,” he said, his eyes crinkling as he grinned. “I swear I shall not attempt to go further without you; look, here is a bench. I can wait as long as you need.”

“Of course,” Esca said, half to Marcus and half to Senovara. He fell into step with her.

“You are…familiar with him,” she said stiffly.

“Familiar?”

“You call him by his name. Romans don’t do that.”

Esca shrugged. “He’s different.”

Her mouth went pinched. Esca knew full well what she thought of Marcus, of Romans, but hoped she would say nothing. He disliked speaking in defense of the Romans in general, but by honor and by inclination he would defend his friend.

“I have not seen you in recent days,” she said at last.

“No,” Esca said. He didn’t want her to ask why; she would be angry at the answer.

“Have you tired of my company?”

“No, only I was needed elsewhere,” he said shortly.

“Ah,” she said with a touch of anger. “The Roman.”

“I am sworn to him,” he said, suppressing anger of his own, “and he needed me. An old wound in his leg was causing him grief.”

“And you are so skilled in medicinal arts, I see.”

“You have no cause to be angry,” Esca said. “My life and how I spend it are no business of yours.”

She took a quick breath at that, and his stomach dropped. Marcus had been _right_ , curse him.

“He will always come first for you, then?” She was hurt. He could see it when he looked for it.

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose that’s the end of it.”

They turned back in silence, and when they reached the place Marcus still sat, she sent a truly poisonous look at him before leaving.

Marcus stared after her. “I was right, wasn’t I?”

Esca didn’t answer, and Marcus interpreted that correctly.

As they made their way home, Marcus ventured, “At least we know now who wrote the curse tablet.”

Esca shook his head. “She’d curse you herself before she turned to the goddess to intercede.”

Marcus chuckled a bit at that, and Esca ducked his head to hide his smile at the sound. Marcus lay a broad, heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I do hope you find your happiness, Esca, and that when you do you won’t let me hold you back from it. I couldn’t bear knowing I was preventing your happiness.”

As Marcus turned to enter their house, Esca paused a moment to regard his back, and to savor the sharp ache that lanced through his chest for a moment.

~*~

Soon enough Marcus’s leg seemed as sound as ever, and Aquila was beginning to grumble about the crowds. They began making plans to leave.

Esca began to think that he had worried for nothing; nothing had come of the curse tablet after all.

He was wrong, of course.

It happened that very afternoon, as they were leaving the baths.

Marcus was laughing about something, a true laugh. His eyes were crinkled at the corners and he was beaming at Esca. Esca couldn’t look away.

Esca never saw her.

It was Marcus that stumbled into her. He knocked her down. And as he turned, horror-stricken, to help her up, apologies already springing to his lips.

She turned her head to him with a snarl and started spitting words at him.

Esca could not understand them, but he didn’t need to. She was angry— _furious_ —and she was making that very clear.

“Please, it was my fault entirely,” Marcus was saying. “Please forgive me. Please let me help you.”

She smacked his hand away and pulled herself up. “ _You_ ,” she snarled, now in Latin, and Esca realized he knew her.

“Sacurilla,” Marcus said in surprise. Excingius’s wife.

“ _You_ ,” she said again, spitting it out as if to remove the taste of it as soon as she could.

Marcus gaped at her, silent. Esca stood by, frozen.

“Have you not done enough, Roman? Have you not taken enough from me, that I must suffer such indignity?”

“What have I taken from you, my lady?” Marcus asked. His voice was gentle and level, as if he were calming a spooked horse.

“My _husband_ ,” she said, snarling like a wolf.

Marcus blinked and looked over at Esca, but he was just as stymied. “Excingius? I had not thought I was taking so much of his time, but—”

“No. Not Lucius. Aulus.”

Marcused sucked in a shocked gasp. “You were his wife?”

“We were betrothed,” she said, drawing herself up. “We would have been married when his service to Rome was through. But then you got him killed.”

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said desperately. “I’m sorry, I never wanted—”

“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t care what you wanted. I hope your wound pains you for the rest of your life. I hope the goddess you came here to seek help from turns her back on you forever.”

“The curse tablet was you then?” Esca said, interrupting the exchange. Marcus started as though he had forgotten Esca was there, but Sacurilla simple turned to him coldly.

“Yes. And clearly it did not work.”

She swept away before either could say anything more. Marcus sagged as though exhausted.

“Marcus,” Esca said, and Marcus shook his head in reply.

“Marcus,” Esca repeated more firmly. Marcus turned to meet his eyes. He looked…not miserable. Shameful.

“It was not your doing,” Esca said. “I have heard this story a thousand times. The death of that man, the deaths under your command, they were not your doing.”

“I sent him out.”

“It was a battle, and you do him a dishonor by taking his death on your conscience,” Esca said.

Marcus gave him a half smile, though his eyes were still melancholy. “I appreciate your words, my friend, more than I can say.” He put his hand on Esca’s shoulder for a moment and let it linger there.

Esca pulled him into an embrace instead, disregarding the fact that they were in the middle of the street. Marcus hesitated but then returned the hold, squeezing hard enough that Esca’s ribs started to complain, but Esca himself said nothing.

They fell into step and made their way home. They would leave soon, and eventually Marcus would learn to put this behind him.

~*~

The next evening was their final before Aquila had decided they would be leaving. And finally Junius had managed to get the old man to agree to come to dinner.

There would not be a return visit expected if they were leaving, he said.

Esca glanced surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye at Aquila and Marcus, and was silently thankful that he did not have to wear the toga, cumbersome impractical thing that it was. But he thought Junius would be rather pleased by the effect and so perhaps it might be worth it, if it kept him happy and distracted enough not to start in again on inheritances and the possibility of marriage.

On the other hand, it gave him the perfect opportunity to expound on the virtues of the Romans, which Esca was hard pressed to find preferable.

Junius’s house looked much like Kaeso’s where they had been staying. There was nothing particularly special about it, and Esca paid little attention to whatever Aquila found to comment about it. He suspected he would endear himself most to his host by holding his tongue all night.

Esca’s attention was drawn back by the arrival of two new people.

“May I present my wife, Sempronia, and my elder daughter, Junia Maior,” Junius said, and Aquila and Marcus both made their polite greetings. Esca settled for nodding respectfully when Aquila introduced him and Marcus to the women in turn.

Dinner was perhaps not as painful as Esca feared it might be. He was largely ignored, as he thought he would be. The conversation flowed largely between Aquila and Junius, with Marcus called upon to comment frequently and Sempronia occasionally chiming in.

Junia, the daughter, was also silent. Her parents asked her opinion a few times, but she did little other than nod or shake her head.

It was after their meal was finished that Sempronia suggested Junia might show Marcus and Esca around the garden. Esca exchanged a glance with Marcus and got up to follow. He had no interest in the garden, but it would get him away from the inane conversation in the dining room.

Aquila scowled at them a bit as they left, and Esca saw Marcus dip his head to hide his smirk at that.

Junia was quite silent in the garden as well; she stayed a few paces away from Marcus at all times. Esca raised an eyebrow at Marcus, who shrugged. It seemed the matrimonial hopes were entirely on her father’s side.

“I met a young man in the street some time ago who indicated he knew you,” Marcus said at last, breaking the silence.

“Oh?” she said. Her voice was soft, and not unpleasant.

“He called himself Publius Sergius Cacumattus.”

Esca pointedly did _not_ say he had also revealed himself to be an idiot at the time, but he thought it quite hard.

“Oh.” Junia had now gone quite red.

“I mean no disrespect to you, but…he made certain claims to your affections,” Marcus said. “I thought, with a name like Cacumattus, he must be a Briton. Romanized, certainly, but a Briton. And having met your father, well.”

Junia was staring fixedly at the ground now.

“I’m not trying to force a confession from you,” Marcus went on. “I only want to reassure you that I have no intention of making an offer.”

Esca snorted. He couldn’t help it; Marcus speaking so baldly to a young Roman lady had forced his hand.

Marcus elbowed him, of course, which only made him smirk, and he could see the amusement in Marcus’s eyes in turn, but Junia interrupted them before they got as far as laughing.

“I will be forthright and tell you I am relieved,” she said, “though of course it would be an honor to be the wife of so illustrious a soldier.”

Marcus blinked blankly and she smiled. Esca decided she was rather pretty, now that she had lost the pinched look about her eyes.

“Many soldiers come to the sacred spring. News has certainly reached us of your success in retaking the lost eagle; I believe it is one reason Cacumattus approached you. He thought I might be taken in by such a hero.”

“I was doing my duty to my father, above all,” Marcus said. Esca watched him and remembered the journey back from the village of the Seal People, and how hard Marcus had pushed himself and struggled, and what he had almost lost.

“Well, I wish you the best,” Junia said as she looked between them. “And I hope that perhaps someone more to your liking _is_ taken in by your heroism someday.”

Marcus’s eyes darted over to Esca, and Esca felt his heart catch in his throat. He looked guilty. And he turned away from Esca so abruptly to follow Junia and return to the dining room, leaving Esca alone in the garden.

~*~

Back at home, most of their things had been packed in preparation for their departure in the morning. Esca paced in his empty room, wishing for some packing to be left to distract him and still troubled by Marcus’s look in Junius’s garden.

Eventually, when he’d driven himself half mad with the wondering, he made his way to Marcus’s room. He would not disturb him if he were sleeping already, but if not, he _needed_ an explanation.

A lamp was burning and Marcus was sitting on his bed; he looked up when Esca came in.

“I wondered if you would come,” Marcus said, and he sounded so tired Esca almost turned around to let him rest.

“I am here,” Esca said instead, determined to see it out.

“It will change nothing,” Marcus said, as if they were continuing a conversation they’d already started. “I hope you know, surely you know that it will change nothing on my part.”

“You are forever making assumptions, Marcus,” Esca said. “I do not yet know what it is. I only know you are troubled, and I did not know. I would help you, if I could. Surely _you_ know _that_.”

Marcus froze and stared at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head sharply.

“I must tell you, then,” he said bleakly. “It would not be fair to do otherwise now.”

Esca waited. Marcus seemed to be ordering his thoughts, and at last he raised his head and looked Esca in the eye.

“I love you,” he said.

Esca though he might have stopped breathing.

“I do not know what your people think of such things. And I do not know exactly what you know of Roman practices. But I would never— _never_ —press my will on you, not in anything anymore but especially not in this. And I understand if you leave after this. I have no expecta—”

Esca cut him off there. He had somehow crossed the room; he had no memory of it. He only knew he was now kissing Marcus as firmly as he could. The blasted Roman was still trying to explain himself for a moment before he seemed to get the idea, and then one of his big hands was sliding around Esca’s neck, his thumb brushing Esca’s jaw and his fingertips brushing the ends of his hair. Esca’s own hands were awkwardly braced on Marcus’s shoulders as he bent over him to kiss him. The angle was beginning to hurt Esca’s neck. Their noses were oddly smashed together.

Esca wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Eventually, though, they did break apart, and Esca moved to sit next to Marcus.

“Esca, what—”

“I love you,” Esca said. “You idiot.”

Marcus laughed. It was somewhat weak and disbelieving, but not hysterical. “Why am I—no. Since when?”

“Since when have _you_ loved _me_?” Esca asked.

“I don’t know,” Marcus replied. “Maybe since we came back. Maybe since I freed you and you swore to return for me. Maybe from the moment you revealed you hadn’t betrayed me among the Seal People. I don’t know when it happened, I only know that I do.”

“You wanted me to marry Senovara.”

“I wanted you to be happy. It would have killed me to know I was making you unhappy; I would prefer you being happy with another to that.”

Esca nodded, then regarded him seriously. “I might have loved you since the arena,” he said, “I don’t know. I did not notice my feelings for you change, and I do not know when exactly they did. But it took a long time to stop hating you as well. And it took my freedom to love you the way I do now.”

Marcus had been staring at him with dark, serious eyes, and now kissed him again. The angle was better this time, and Esca’s eyes slipped shut as he lost himself in the feeling.

They still had no real plan for the future, though Marcus said something about land he might be owed, but for now this was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If you weren't aware of it, curse tablets were a real thing in the Greco-Roman world, and there actually were a ton found at Bath from the Roman period. They're really cool, and if you're interested in history I definitely recommend looking them up. They are, by the by, called defixiones in Latin, so that's where the title comes from.
> 
> Aquae Sulis is the Roman name for the city that would eventually become Bath. Hopefully I caught all instances where I accidentally called it Bath here.
> 
> I put a lot of thought and research into the names of all the OCs, but I doubt it would be super interesting to anyone but me. So just know that the effort was made.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story!


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